So I’m playing tourist,
mooching off my galpal Corinne’s retired Redwood City, CA dream life.
Boy, has she ever set herself up well in her hometown, recently
redeveloped into a vacation paradise ideal for a freeloader
like me. Not only is her late
parents’ house, in which she grew up, replete with a view of verdant
hillsides and well-tended homes – and a
large garden full of a festival of fruits in rotating seasons of
ripeness – she’s got
the sensuous cuddle cat and the darling ditzy dog, and the
friendly, easy kind of community about which we all fantasize when
things start
to sloooow down.
Redwood City has Zydeco dancing for free with a great Cajun group in the renovated town square on Friday nights all summer, in a great contrast of stately buildings and Southern hoedown hick apparel. It features screenings and dance classes at the local community center every week all year long. People actually picnic in its parks. It’s got great walking areas, fine dining, funky shops with great one-of a-kind finds, a train station, and, holy shades of civilization, all the familiar franchises plus a Whole Foods with slightly different fare from local farms than the Los Angeles local branch.
They sell ostrich eggs.
You had the nice. Now here’s the not so nice. I recently wrote about finding peace, love, and deeper friendship through agriculture; specifically, growing tomatoes with my friend Mark. Peace, love and light through Heirlooms. It was a lovely piece. Upbeat and cheery, not too “come to the commune”. Just right for a lazy morning read over coffee.
These! Are they not gorgeous? I think they kind of scream summer in their own not-so-subtle way. They are certainly eye-catching on a platter together.